Page 79 of A King So Savage

Ava hugged the pillow tighter,her heart splintering into a million pieces when the suite’s outer door lock clicked. She heard him addressing another person in the main corridor and realized he must have posted a guard. Whether to keep her in or prevent someone else from entering was unknown. Whatever Kingston said to this person was a low murmur, spoken too quietly to discern the words or even who he spoke to.

Ava’s entire body tightened. What would he do with her now? What punishments would be imposed? Would she be able to bear them? She glanced down at her hands. They were shaking.

Kingston sauntered into the room as casually as though returning from an unexpected errand. Formally dressed in one of those immaculate suits, his coat, slacks, and shirt were perfectly pressed and wrinkle-free. Everything was black—all of it—and the fabric concealed any evidence of blood. He was not disheveled, nor was there a single hair out of place.

He was sleek, cruel danger wrapped in a Brioni suit. And he was so devastatingly handsome, it made Ava’s breath catch.

Is this what it looked like when you killed someone? This pristine, controlled persona that was deadly in its elegance? This man was too perfect to have committed murder. Too beautiful.

Kingston’s eyes sparked when he saw her waiting in the middle of his bed. He carried a bundle of clothing under one arm. Ava recognized the items from the closet of the sterile, perfect bedroom she’d stayed in before.

The gleam in the dark blue depths of his intent gaze sent a shiver of awareness through her. He stalked closer. His expensive cologne teased her senses, leaving her dry-mouthed with nerves. And something else.

Relief that he’d come back.

Leaning a shoulder against the carved bedpost, he swept her from head to toe with an appreciative eye.

“Good morning again, lamb.”

Ava set the pillow aside. “Good morning.” She swallowed hard, her eyes closing briefly. “Sir.”

She wasn’t even sure why she used the title then, but it pleased Kingston. It was evident in the way his pupils blew out, the black swallowing all the blue of his eyes.

He took in the dampness of her hair and the billowy softness of his t-shirt covering her body. His mouth quirked.

“Ava?”

“Yes?” She hated how her voice trembled, but it couldn’t be helped. There was something different between them now. Something foreign and intriguing. A sense of belonging and yet, strangeness as well.

“Remove the t-shirt.” His command was just that, a command, and it stung Ava like the bite of a whip.

Was this how it would be from now on? An immediate assertion of his control and dominance over her?

Her hesitation had him cocking his head.

“Your brother refused to pay the debt that held you prisoner. Need I remind you of all the reasons you are mine? Now, do as I say and remove that shirt.”

Ava sucked in a breath, and with a razor-sharp motion, whipped the t-shirt over her head.

“Tsk, Tsk.”Kingston’s chuckle was low and dark and not at all amused. “No, lamb. Not like that. Put it back on and try again. Slowly.”

Ava wondered if it were possible to ignite a body with the sheer force of a frown. Because if it was, Kingston Vaughn Winter was in serious danger of igniting into flames.

Gritting her teeth, Ava did as she was told. Donning the shirt again, she slowly, deliberately teased it off her body with what she hoped were seductive movements.

“Much better,” Kingston said in approval. “You learn quickly. We’ll have to work on your demeanor, however. It’s much too defiant.”

The rumpled sheets concealed the lower half of her body, but the upper portion was now completely exposed to Kingston’s gaze. She forced herself into a relaxed position, achingly aware of her nakedness. Of her breasts which swelled full and heavy beneath his perusal. Of her nipples, now puckered into tight buds of anticipation in the room’s coolness.

Would he force himself upon her now? Would he shove her back into the downy soft pillows and pry her thighs apart so he could fit between them? Would she fight him? Or would she allow it?

Kingston did not move from his stance, his shoulder remaining in contact with the bedpost as he pinned her in place with diamond-bright eyes. His eyes roamed every inch of her body, rage flaring in their dark depths as he noted the extent of the bruising caused by Malcolm’s hands.

“There are certain rules you will follow while you are mine.”

Ava shook her hair back until the damp strands cascaded down her back. “I thought as much,” she replied bravely.

The corners of Kingston’s mouth kicked up a bit before he sobered. “Number one is quite obvious. I will not tolerate impertinence. Little girls with sassy mouths will find themselves punished.”

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